Caped Communications
by Right-2-Left
Summary: Catherine Cobert's first few hours at work. A civilian in a world of secretive, spandex-wearing superheroes. [Oneshot.]


_I only own that which is unfamiliar. The antagonism towards PR has been taken from comments I've heard or read in real life, simply mildly adjusted to fit the YJ universe._

This oneshot came about thanks to a startling lack of Catherine Cobert stories anywhere, which hurt my soul a little bit.

* * *

**Caped Communications**

"_Don't believe your own publicity. You can't; you'll start believing that you're better than you are."_

Leif Garrett

* * *

When Catherine first got the title of Public Affairs Officer it was a sunny day in Washington D.C. and she was an appropriate fifteen minutes early. Wayne, the Hall of Justice's Head of Security, let her in before the Hall officially opened. She didn't have her keycard yet so he accompanied her past the doors marked for _'Employees Only__'_ then left a spare keycard with her.

Her office was on the third floor of the Hall of Justice, above where all the tours took place. There were large windows but she knew that while she could look out of them no one could look in. They were probably bulletproof too, which was a tad unnerving. All of the equipment was brand new and mildly intimidating, while the furniture was all light wood and streamlined, futuristic lines. Very scifi.

Her heels clicked against the floor as she strode out of her office and into the area beyond, which had three other desks in it, all spartan. Beyond that room there was a foyer type of area, which Catherine hoped to use for initially entertaining those guests who couldn't go any further past the _'Employees Only' _doors. There was a large conference room, outfitted with the latest tech down the hallway, the necessary bathrooms, and a kitchen Wayne had referred to as a _'galley.'_

Catherine mentally made note of the term, which seemed to be one used by those who worked in the Hall and wasn't simply a Wayne quirk.

On the second floor were areas for tours and on the first floor were most of the Justice League's artifacts. The third floor was all office and conference space. Though, now that Catherine had walked around it, it seemed to be that the only offices here were the Security Offices for the executives of that area, the Custodial Crew's Offices, the Public Affairs Offices and apparently the offices of the Historians.

Catherine walked curiously into the new offices to find a college-aged woman sitting at the only desk by the door and pouring over a rather thick document as she typed. She was tall, with black hair piled back on her head in curls, and hooded brown eyes behind thick green-rimmed eyeglasses. Catherine could spot a green tattoo poking out across her shoulder. Judging by the book sitting on her desk with the title _'The Justice Society: The Early Years' _she was either a fan of superheroes or a fan of history. Probably both.

At the sound of Catherine's heels against the floor the college-aged woman looked up and peered over her glasses at Catherine.

"Uh…hi?"

"Hi," Catherine said, smiling softly. "I'm Catherine. I'm the new public affairs officer."

The woman blinked then exhaled heavily, "Oh thank god." She pushed herself out of her chair and held out her hand, "I'm Sara Wong. Intern. History major."

"Catherine Cobert," Catherine said, shaking Sara's hand. "It's nice to meet you. What do you do around here?"

"Same as everyone else," she said, gesturing around to the collection of offices. "Keep the museum up to speed." She gestured to the books on her desk, "I'm rewriting the descriptions of the Justice Society members."

"That sounds interesting."

"It's boring is what it is. I know the history of the Justice Society and trust me, the thrill of working in the same place that Superman is occasionally in his underwear in disappears pretty quickly."

Catherine raised an eyebrow.

"Sorry. My only human interaction today has been with Snapper and he's _Snapper_."

"It's 9 in the morning," Catherine pointed out. "How-"

"I live alone – I know, I'm amazing enough to do that here – and I drive here and because I was running late I couldn't stop and grab a coffee and now I have to deal with this place's crappy coffee. You would think, it being the Hall of Justice and all, that there would be a decent coffee-machine. But no. Apparently none of the geniuses in the League can fix a coffee-machine."

"There are about, what, 7 other people working here though."

"Yeah, but all of them came in before me so literally the only person I have seen today besides Wayne and co. is Snapper when we went to get coffee from the god-awful coffee-machine. Plus there are more people in the basement; most of the archivists are down there. No one but them and a few others can go down there, by the way, the stuff they have down there can be dangerous sometimes. Usually the League manages to make the stuff safe to deal with but sometimes there can be accidents. Supervillains are nasty."

"Generally, that is how they enter the business I think," Catherine remarked drily. "I could get you some coffee from down the street if you'd like."

"You would do that? Fuck, I would love you forever."

"I need to familiarize myself with the area anyway."

"You aren't familiar with it already?"

"I moved here for the job."

"Where did you live before?"

"Gotham City."

Sara eyed her suspiciously, "Did Batman recruit you?"

Catherine chuckled, "No. I applied online and was interviewed over the phone. I'm pretty sure they looked into my background though."

"They look into everyone's background. Worst we have here is a speeding ticket. Which, really, no one in the League can look down on your for. Not like none of them have speeded before. Just look at the fucking Batmobile. Then there's Flash, and he has a category all to himself."

"What kind of coffee do you want me to get?"

"Black as my soul."

"Got it," Catherine said as a tall brunet man who looked a few years younger than her came walking out of one of the offices.

"Snapper!" Sara grinned. "Come meet Cat!" She paused then turned to Catherine, "Can I call you Cat?"

"I prefer Catherine."

"Cool," Sara turned back to Snapper, "meet Catherine. She's the new public affairs officer."

"League needs one of those," Snapper snorted, shaking Catherine's hand. "Nice to meet you. My name's Lucas Carr, but everyone calls me Snapper."

"Catherine Cobert. What do you do around here?"

"Museum stuff, mostly. I handle the political history around the League and its engagements," Snapper explained.

"Political history?"

"I studied political science and education. Taught high school for a few years then wound up here. Would like to go back to that, actually, but this is interesting too."

"That's quite a leap."

"Not when you hear the story."

"Will I hear the story?"

"Probably eventually."

"Is there someone doing government relations for the League?"

"Officially, no. Usually the League just sends the most diplomatic member who's available to do any government relations."

Catherine paled at the thought. Meeting in the capes and tights was a sure-fire way to make the politicians feel either inadequate or challenged, neither of which paved the way for good relations with the government.

"You're actually the first one in your department," said Snapper. "Didn't they tell you that?"

Catherine rubbed the bridge of her nose, "I was told that I would have to hire a few people, not that I would have to start an entire department from scratch."

"Well that…sucks."

"Whom would I meet with about this?"

"The leader of the League. So, Batman."

"Of course," Catherine sighed. "If you'll excuse me, I need to deal with this." She looked at Sara, "Sorry, I have to deal with this before your coffee."

"No big deal. I'll just go myself. Good luck with your meeting."

"Thanks."

Catherine headed back to her office, rubbing the bridge of her nose and silently swearing. How the hell was she supposed to even get in touch with Batman?

Fuck, her boss was _Batman_.

Ninety-six minutes later in the conference room Catherine imagined standing up, striding across the room and squashing Batman, Captain Atom and Superman under one of her high heels, laughing maniacally as she did so. It would be satisfying.

Instead, she stomped down on her want to unleash the Cobert Glare on all three of them.

Batman seemed to understand the value of what she was hired to do – which made Catherine highly suspicious as to what his civilian identity was for him to be very much aware of the value of Public Relations – but the other two, well, she wanted to hurt them both. Captain Atom was focused on the fact that the League had identities to protect, people to protect, and that their primary job was not giving interviews and that, in his mind, doing anything related to PR would cut into their Saving The World time. He also seemed rather nervous about the fact that she had clearly stated that to do her job she would need to spend a fair amount of time around the League.

Superman…god she didn't even know what was wrong with him. The so-called Boy Scout in Blue seemed to hold an immediate dislike of her and she couldn't understand _why_. He seemed to view her discussion of strategy when dealing with the press with a degree of distaste that she only ever associated with the actual press.

Catherine, honestly, would not be surprised if Superman's civilian identity turned out to be that of a reporter.

The relationship between those in PR and those in journalism was complicated. They both needed one another but they had different goals and that led to some…issues. Complicated issues and an immediate suspicion. Reporters were suspicious of PR professionals and vice-versa.

Fuck. Catherine really just wanted to stab Superman's goddamn eyes out with her goddamn pencil. After stabbing the goddamn Captain Atom in is goddamn mouth because dammit her job was not to get in their way her job was to make sure they didn't do anything stupid so that they could develop a good reputation naturally. Then she was to spread word of their good reputation. _That_ was her goddamn job.

"I don't like this," said Captain Atom, gesturing to Catherine with a sort of disdain that she was certain no one else had seen him emote, "we don't need, and shouldn't have, a spin doctor-"

Catherine twitched violently.

She was going to kill him.

"I am not a _'spin doctor,'_" Catherine said, barely managing to ensure she did not grit her teeth or look like she was planning on slaughtering someone in the middle of the night. "I am your Public Affairs Officer. I have always and will always adhere to a Code of Ethics that clearly states that I will always use honesty, I will not mislead, I will not deceive, I will not twist your words or anyone else's words, or photographs for that matter. My job is to tell everyone what a good job you are doing and how important the League is. My job is to make sure that your communication lines are open. That the Hall is upheld as a place of respect and authority. That the people know of your existence and are not terrified of any of you like some of them were when you first showed up after the debacles with the Society."

Superman shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

"I understand that your first introduction to what I do was likely through the propaganda that led to the decimation of billions," Catherine said, focusing on Captain Atom. "I understand that, I do. I understand that you know that my profession grew out of some less than admirable practices. But those practices are no longer accepted. You use those practices and you become a pariah in the industry. You will _never_ be contacted again. I adhere to _two_ professional ethical codes and my own code of ethics."

Which is probably more than any of you, you fucking jackasses, Catherine thought spitefully.

Catherine's fingers turned pale pressed against the table, "I _will_ call you out if what you are doing is unethical. I _will_ call you out if you are doing something that is a load of bullshit and will make everyone loathe you. I _will_ do everything I can to make sure that the League's reputation is not easily shattered, like it currently is."

She scanned the faces of the superheroes and added, "Yes, your approval ratings are not as great as you think they are. People may be amazed by you, but property still has been destroyed, taxes have still been shot up as a result, insurance is a shit-show, all of you are intimidating and half of you wear masks. Your power is, frankly, staggering, and no one knows who you people are, which is terrifying to many, _many_ people. It would take one good push from someone with the know-how and the power, the influence, to knock the Justice League down."

Catherine tapped on her laptop and pulled up the charts showing the fluctuations in the League's approval ratings through the past year, "I got these from a few sources. The census, a few global surveys, my own research of social media and online news. Basically your ratings were decent when the Justice League was first formed, it was the nostalgia factor, a reminder of the Justice Society from decades ago. The ratings dropped behind each moment of property damage and leveled out for a bit, and this year that pattern is the same. I suspect that it's the property damage and the masks that kill you. I'd have to do more research to be sure. Plus, your press conferences are rare and tend to be overshadowed by King Orin's presence since Atlantis is rarely featured in surface media and the bit about the UN is always interesting to people.

"Very little good is said about the League by any of the federal governments around the world. The only good is from Atlantis, but that's because their King is Aquaman, and when you save diplomats from countries they usually do a standard spiel about how awesome you are and your ratings boost for about a week. Which, yippee, yay for you, but no. That is not a good way to foster trust in you.

"The Justice League is viewed favourably in Atlantis from what I can tell, and that is undoubtedly because of King Orin. He knows how to talk to his people and he does it well and often. The Justice League does not, however, talk to the people up here very often at all and while your press conferences are decent and the Hall is a great source of information you could do a ton more. More press releases, more PSAs, a better website with more information, social media, some exclusives…transparency is key."

"Our concern is not _ratings_," Captain Atom argued. "Our concern is protecting the people of this planet. Of upholding justice."

"And how do you expect to do that when your ratings drop so low that the people you are trying to protect start running away from you screaming in fear?"

Catherine prayed to whatever deity existed that Batman didn't try and argue with her on that point. That fear was what he built his entire, well, _brand_ on when it came to criminals and dissuading possible criminals, and it worked well.

"She has a point," Batman said.

Oh thank god, Batman is on her side. Thank god.

Captain Atom still looked frustrated. Why did Wonder Woman have to respond to an emergency last-minute and Captain Atom had to attend instead? Why? Maybe Wonder Woman at least wouldn't have called Catherine a _'spin doctor.'_ Then again, she had been around when that term was widely used. Maybe she would use it.

Fucking superheroes.

Superman sighed, "There will be information you won't be privy to, for your own safety."

Catherine barely restrained herself from growling at him. She nodded, "Understood. What if I compiled a list of all the information I will need to do my job? I need to do a communications audit of some sort on this place anyway. What do you think about me bringing in a few other people to help, at least with that?"

"In this," Batman slid a USB stick to her, "you'll find everything necessary for hiring any additional employees, and some promising resumes of individuals we've already checked out. If you need assistance in completing the audit I suggest you contact one of the people we've already checked."

Thank fuck.

She had thought she would wind up dying thanks to this job, due to her working herself to the bone, not because of a supervillain. Which, besides being painful and frustrating, would also be humiliating. If she's going to die thanks to this job she would prefer to die thanks to a supervillain, not her own ridiculous work ethic.

"Okay, thanks," Catherine said, rising. She held out her hand instinctively, "I should get to work."

It was only after she was halfway back to her office that she realized she had just shook hands with a guy who was basically comprised of nuclear energy, a guy who dressed as a giant rodent and was feared by criminals the world over, and a guy who was strong enough to move planets with one hand.

Catherine sat at her desk, mute.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," she banged her head on her desk. "Why are you incapable of turning down a challenge, Catherine? Why? This is going to be the biggest job you've ever had, probably ever will have. Oh fuck that's a lot of pressure."

She straightened up, squared her shoulders, took in a deep breath, plugged in the USB stick, and got to work saving a struggling reputation. It was time to save the reputations of the World's Greatest Heroes.

No pressure.

* * *

**end.**


End file.
